


Baby Blue

by relzia



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Lingerie, Masturbation, Other, Panties, Wtf did I just write, god help me, sub!yeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11546220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relzia/pseuds/relzia
Summary: Chanyeol tries something new.





	Baby Blue

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a super super quick n tiny gift for my dear friend cici who loves sub yeollie! dont hunt me down if u dont think its good aaa its my first time writing something quite like this!

_Absolutely no one can know about this_ , Chanyeol thinks as he stares at the pink bag in front of him. With half the group- including his roommate- staying overnight somewhere in Japan for a variety show, and the other half sound asleep, he'd decided now was a perfect time to take the bag out from where he'd previously hidden it under his bed, but shame burns his face and keeps him rooted in place. It was a miracle he could even work up the courage to buy it, covered from head to toe to prevent even his most observant fans from recognizing him. He knew none of the employees suspected what he was there to do; they probably figured him to be preparing for a special night with his girlfriend. It was his own experiment; his own little secret.

He strips his shirt off as quickly as if he was ripping off a band-aid, musing his brown hair helplessly as a result.  _One thing at a time_ , he reminds himself.  _Nobody's here to judge you. Nobody's going to know._ He shucks off his jeans and boxers in one go, and taking a deep breath, pulls his purchase out of the bag. It doesn't matter that his eyes are shut tight; the garment makes itself known, a far cry from what he wears day to day in how it feels, how it fits. 

In front of the full length mirror, Chanyeol takes a deep breath. He snaps his eyes open, then shuts them just as urgently, a helpless sort of whimper emerging from his throat at the sight of his reflection. A mixture of curiosity and newfound arousal encourages him to open his eyes again and take in the visual. Humiliation reddening his face, he holds down the nervous laugh bubbling up inside of him and looks down at himself for a change of angle. He was right when he'd suspected he'd like the look and feel of panties on himself. He purses his lips as he takes in the baby blue lace contrasted against his rapidly hardening cock, a scene not only incredibly enticing but also unbelievably embarrassing. He supposes he can say the former emotion wins out, because he's now knocking the Victoria's Secret bag onto the floor to make space for himself to lean against his pillows and spread his legs. A low groan is elicited as he gently strokes himself, the lace surprisingly soft under his hesitant fingers rather than itchy, unlike he'd expected. 

Now at the level of arousal Chanyeol deems suitable to move onto the next stage with, he reluctantly removes his fingers from his member and uses them to rummage around in his beside table. He rubs himself against the sheets as he searches, moaning absently at the continued stimulation. To his delight, he finally fishes out the nondescript bottle of lube he'd bought online a week or two ago; lotion wasn't going to cut it this time.  After popping the lid open and preparing two fingers (he thinks that's all he can manage right now), a sense of finality and determination befalls him. _People do this all the time. It's going to feel so good, it won't hurt too much,_ he mentally tells himself, deciding to trust the almost embarrassing amount of web pages he's read on the topic of anal fingering. He cringes a bit at the crude sounding term. 

He situates himself face down one the bed and sticks his ass up, hoping too late that he remembered to lock the door earlier, then reaches back and pulls down the panties just enough to grant access to his hole. "Now or never," he mumbles, and sticks one finger in to the first knuckle. He immediately stiffens.  _Cold, cold, cold,_ he winces, clenching his teeth and pushing it in the rest of the way, finding humiliating pleasure in the burn and the feeling of the slow slide against his tight walls. Taking time to adjust to the foreign feeling, he wonders how people actually accommodate whole dicks during sex; his finger is being squeezed almost painfully strongly. He starts to move his finger in and out, slowly, savoring the drag against his walls and muffling his wails in the fluffy pillow under him, making an effort to stay silent, even if he knows the members won't mind some noise, far too used to it after five years. 

With the initial pain slowly ebbing away into pleasure, Chanyeol assumes through a hazy brain that it's time to add a second finger. As he pushes past his rim, he holds a cry behind a bitten lip. The _stretch_ : he'd always thought his vocabulary was pretty good, but he can't find the right word to articulate something along the lines of 'pleasurable pain.' Both fingers now entirely in, he tries a few different angles, because wasn't there supposed to be a sweet spot? If he curls his fingers, then maybe- _oh_. His mind goes blank and his vision goes white as he lets out an unabashed sob, no longer concerned what his friends will tease him about tomorrow morning as he repeatedly stimulates the spot, tears of lust falling from his eyes.

Suddenly remembering his aching cock, he reaches into the front of the panties and spreads the precum spilling from the  tip all the way down to the base, too caught up in his other hand's ministrations to use the actual lube only a foot or two away from his head. As his arms begin to tire and his legs begin to shake, he feels a building pressure in his lower abdomen. His movements become sloppy and rushed. He removes the fingers from his hole, leaving it to clench around nothing, and thrusts into his hand until he cums hard with a drawn out moan into his pillow. After finishing, he plops down into his own mess, limbs too weak at the moment to clean himself or his sheets. Using the last of his strength, he rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling with glazed eyes, chest rising and falling quickly in time with his panting. He bites his lips to keep from grinning widely. He'd call that successful. Perhaps next time, he'll get someone to accompany him. 


End file.
